Chaos of Memory
by Tawnykit
Summary: The past is the past, and nothing can change it. One lonely figure in the night contemplates if it is worth the pain of facing it.


Disclaimer: _Final Fantasy VII_ is not mine. I'm writing this without permission from the people who _do_ own it, but don't worry. It's just a lend; I promise I'll but Vincent back where I found him when I'm done.

A/N: This is the long labor of many, many nights, spread out over many, many months. I'm... not quite certain what the end result is. Confusing as all hell, probably. One might ever say... chaotic? Hopefully, you will find it enjoyable anyway.

Warning: Contains spoilers for Vincent's past. Do not read if you haven't unlocked the hidden cut scene in Lucrecia's cave (in other words, if you don't have Vincent's final Limit Break, Chaos).

If you have (or if you just don't care if it's spoiled) then, dear reader, may you enjoy!

* * *

He stood on the ridge, his head bowed against the biting force of the wind, his red eyes narrowed as he looked down at remains of the old mansion. It stood, crumbling with age, its insides coated with a layer of dust so thick that the clothes of anyone who entered would become filthy after a few mere minutes in its halls. It had once been the home of some of the greatest scientific minds in the world. Now, its once proud walls contained only monsters and their nests.

He frowned, pulling the neck of his blood red cloak up to better protect the pale skin of his face from the wind. He was uncertain as to whether or not he should enter the dusty halls once more. Whereas he had once strutted through its corridors with the casual ease of one of the many who resided there, it was a place of fear and bad memories for him now.

It was not the monsters that made him wary.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the golden metal of his left hand clenching into a fist. This was where it had all happened, or at least where it had all begun. Right here, in the dilapidated old building below him, lives had been lost, torture had been endured, and monsters – he did not mean the kind that dwelled there now – had been born.

He was one of those monsters.

He felt a presence at the back of his mind stir, feeding off of his turbulent emotions, growling in its desire to be released. It was Chaos.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the voice that now echoed through his mind. He mustn't give in; this was not the heat of battle, where such a destructive force could be channeled against his foes, safely released for a time, to be recalled when the danger was over. The peaceful village of Nibelhiem lay sprawled where the mountains and the mansion ended; he did not want to think of what Chaos could do to the villagers of Nibelhiem.

Now that he thought of it, the village in itself was an interesting phenomenon. According to Cloud and Tifa – and he trusted them to know what they were talking about, especially when it came to their hometown – the village had been burned to the ground. He himself did not recall this; while he had been in the mansion at the time of Sephiroth's uncalled for retaliation, he had been in hibernation, locked in a coffin in the basement as penance for his sins.

It was his fault that all of this had happened. He should have been able to stop Hojo, should have been able to save Lucrecia and stop Sephiroth from being born, or at least to stop the injection of Jenova cells that had destroyed his love and turned her son into a psychotic madman with the desire to destroy the world… and the power to do it.

Lucrecia… Pain crossed his features, evidence of heartache so deep that nothing, not even time, could fully ease it. He didn't understand how Hojo could be so cruel as to use the woman bearing _his own child_ with a serum that would, slowly but surely, destroy her.

He recalled the pitiful state that he had found her in, back before Sephiroth had been destroyed, in a secret cave that he and his friends had stumbled on by pure chance. She had been just as beautiful as he remembered, even with her spirit broken and Jenova eating away at her flesh. He smiled bitterly; a fallen angel, mother of the one-winged angel that had caused the world so much pain.

He shook his head. He had loved her, had wanted to marry her, but she had chosen another, and in the end that choice had destroyed her.

'_If she is happy then… I don't mind…'_

He should have known better.

He had been furious when he found out what had happened. He had been against their "experiment" from the start. How could they risk her life and the life of her unborn child that way? He had confronted Hojo afterwards, taking his own pain out on its source.

It had nearly cost him his life. So blinded by fury was he that, despite his long training with Shinra and his honed Turk reflexes, he had not seen the gun the scientist had concealed until it was too late.

The next thing he knew, he had awoken on Hojo's operating table. Hojo and the Shinra men were gone; they had taken the child with them. He hadn't known what had happened to Lucrecia.

Hojo had done… _something_ to him. His left hand had been turned into a golden claw; three demons had somehow been injected into his body and mind. If he lost control of his temper, one of them would take control… and once that happened, there was nothing he could do to stop them.

_Yesssss... Set usss freeee... Let us rip them... Tear them... Kill them! Let us wreak havoc in revenge for your pain!_

It was that voice again, the one that _she_ had given him just before she had finally died. She had given it to him, to him alone, and he had taken it willingly.

He hadn't known that the worst was yet to come.

He shuddered, one hand – the normal one – clutching at his head. Chaos' transformations _hurt_, pained him worse than the others, greater than he had ever felt before. He wondered if it was his body that it caused to ache so much... or his heart.

The voice whispered in the back of his mind this time; he swayed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. _What are _they_ to you? _They_ dessstrroyyed you... Turned you into _thisss_... Gave you over to _ussss_... Let me take over... I'll make them payyy..._

"But you..." he murmured. "You don't care... what they did to _me_."

There was a flash of confusion, of uncertainty from the parasite in his mind.

"You just want bloodshed," he continued. He stood up straight, his hand dropping to his side, and his eyes refocused on the town below him. "These people are innocent." He finished the rest of his thought in his head, said only to that demonic voice in the night:

_Silence, Demon._

And silence answered him... for now.

He turned his eyes to the stars, continuing his silent soliloquy. _So many memories... _

He had thought he had put an end to this inner turmoil when he had helped Cloud to destroy Lucrecia's wayward son. He had been wrong.

_So many nightmares..._

What redemption could he possibly find now?

_Do I dare to face them? Will it put my mind at ease, or only give the demons the chance they need?_

He looked down once more at his golden hand; his red eyes narrowed. The past was the past, and nothing could change it; all that remained now was to make his heart believe what his mind told him.

His decision finally reached, Vincent Valentine left his lonely ridge and ventured down the slope to the dusty mansion below.

The past was the past, and nothing could change it; all that remained was to face it.


End file.
